Ivy's Flower
by Twilight Joltik
Summary: Greninja is given a warning by an odd girl, who requests he give her flower barrette to famous Smash Fighter Charizard and promptly dies right in front of him. In a desperate attempt to fulfill the girl's dying wish, Greninja attempts to become a Smash Fighter himself, soon learning what exactly it was he so desperately needed to be warned of to cost the girl her life.


_**AN- Well, I had an idea, and as we all know, that can never end well. Actually, I had three ideas, which I can't decide between. So, I'm posting the first chapters of each of these hypothetical new stories to see which one you lovely readers like best. If you like this one, go vote for it on my profile page to tell me I need to make it into a full-fledged story. Feel free to check out my other two options, Puzzle-box Mansion and Sweet Smash Flats as well, just in case you end up liking one of those more than this. Er, all of the non-human characters are humanized here, by the way. Because reasons. And all of the chapter names are after flowers, because as we all know, Joltik likes her weird chapter names. So, just remember: I only own my own ideas here, and if they're terrible, vote for something else. Thank you and enjoy. -Twilight Joltik**_

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_Ivy's Flower_

_Chapter One- Chrysanthemum_

The sunset glimmered on the glass spires of Saffron City, bathing the city in an amber glow. Greninja shielded his eyes from the dying rays as he dashed through the desolate streets. At this hour, nearly everyone would be home watching the announcement of new Smash Fighters for the upcoming tournament. Bets were heavy on which people would be chosen, and the speculation had been well publizized. There hardly seemed to be a soul in the city who didn't have their own ideas on who would be announced that night, and who from the last tournament would be returning. Heck, he himself had ten dollars wagered among his friend circle that a fighter from the same minor circuit that had produced a few of the veteran fighters that went by the name of "Bandanna Waddle Dee" would make it in, something absolutely none of his friends agreed with. If he was announced to have made it in tonight, he'd have something to rub in Delphox's face for once, something he'd been wanting desperately for ages, and that kept him sprinting forward.

He tried to sneak a glance at the windows in the homes he passed by, and let out a sigh of relief. It seemed to still be in the pre-show state: he wasn't missing anything. Even if he did, which was unlikely considering he was only blocks away from his apartment, he would be able to watch it online, even if the thrill of knowing everything first and rubbing it immediately in his friend's face was ruined by his awful boss's overly harsh punishments. Ten minutes, maybe, he could have understood, but an extra hour unpaid for a chocolate bar, and on such an important night? If anywhere else at all was hiring, Greninja would have quit on a second's notice. He pushed himself to run faster, willed to remember what he'd be missing, how Delphox and Chesnaught would rub it in his face, but he stumbled as he heard someone calling out behind him.

"Excuse me, sir!", a thin, airy voice called out. "Please, sir, I need to talk to you!"

Whirring around, he saw a young woman with waves of blue-green hair in a rather thin green sundress that hardly matched the oddly bitter June air, her hands behind her back as if holding something shielded from view. The pink flower pinned in her hair combined with her red-violet eyes that looked near tears, they made him feel as if he should be able to recognize her but couldn't quite recall why. "Yes," he answered, clenching his fists and taking a stance from which he could spring at the slightest hint of aggression. She looked unassuming, and almost defenseless, but the best pickpocketers always did. "What d'ya want? I don't have any cash on me if that's what you're looking for."

She took a few staggering steps towards him, casting some dark liquid splattering onto the pavement with every step. It took a few moments until he realized with a lurch it was blood. With a lunge forward, he caught her by her shoulders to try to steady her. "I'm fine," she assured him. "I- I just cut my hand, that's all." Her eyes suddenly turned steely and piercing, and he removed his hands quickly. "But there's something I need to tell someone, anyone, and you, you're the only person who isn't caught up in all of this Smash business. You must be someone I can trust, right?"

Though her assessment of him was entirely wrong, he wasn't about to tell this poor girl that. Even if she claimed to be fine, something about her, be it the odd, almost ethereal air around her or the way she held herself told him that she wasn't quite right in the head. He pitied her, almost, and nodded to assure her those presumptions were correct, as she looked like the kind of person you ought to humor. "Yeah, that stuff's all stupid," he lied. "Always thought so."

A small smile crossed her lips. "Good, you'll be easier to convince, then. Haven't you always thought there was something… odd about the whole affair?"

"Other than the fact it all looks staged," he added in a scorning mutter under his breath. That seemed to be what the rare person that disliked Smash Fighting would say, so perhaps it would lend to his credibility as one of those detractors.

"Well, that's most certainly true," the girl stated. "But other than that, isn't it a bit odd how it's treated? The media covers it far more extensively than other sports, almost as if they're trying to make sure everyone is watching. It's like every aspect of it is trying to force its way into the public eye, but for what? All of it seems like simple pageantry, some mindless entertainment at the expense of others. Almost like it's a distraction for something larger."

Forget the bleeding, this girl wasn't someone Greninja should pity. Well, perhaps, but she was hardly some lost little girl who was a bit addled. No, she was one of those crazy conspiracy theorists who filled every corner of the internet with desperate cries that the government had been hijacked by aliens. He regained his prior stance, glancing anxiously between the girl, who was now frowning, and the road ahead.

Her frown turned to a sigh. "You think I'm mad, don't you?", she questioned. When he answered with only silence, she leaned forward, until they were practically nose-to-nose. "I can assure you I'm not," she practically whispered. "In fact, I'm far from it. The honest truth is that I know things about the Smash Fighter program that no person should ever have the misfortune of knowing, and I simply want to tell people the truths they deserve to know."

"Sorry." He took a step backwards, away from her eerie lilt. "I've sort of got to run. I- er, left the stove on, so, er,"

Turning away, he began to run down the street once more, away from her desperate cries of "Please, just listen to me! People are d-"

A scream interrupted her, followed by a pained gasp and a thud onto the ground. Greninja turned right back around to find the girl collapsed on the ground in a dark red pool. He ran to her side, swiftly grabbing her hand to feel the light, fluttering pulse like a dying insect trying to take off. "What happened?", he asked. "Wh-where's your phone, I can call an ambulance!"

She gave a weak shake of her head. "N-no need," she coughed up, alongside copious amounts of blood. "I- I was d-doomed from t-the st-start."

Weakly, she reached to the flower clip on her head. Its cloth petals were stained with dull red spatters in parts. A trembling hand forced it into his, and he felt as if he would soon be sick. "Ch-Charizard," she forced out. "Ch-Charizard V-Ventus… G-give it t-to h-him, t-tell h-him I-Ivy f-forg-gives h-h-him."

The hand holding the flower went limp. He checked again for that dying heartbeat, only to find it had vanished. His own hands were the ones doing the shaking as he took the flower from her and pushed himself up on unsteady legs. He began to run, to his house, where he could call the police and tell them a girl had died on the streets.

Cursing himself for canceling his cell phone, he sprinted until he heard an odd noise he couldn't even begin to place behind him. Turning back towards the corpse, he saw nothing. He ran back to the place she had fallen, and found it immaculate, as if she had never been there. No blood splattered the asphalt, not a single drop. Had he imagined her? Glancing at her blood on the flower once more told him otherwise.

Slowly, he began back to his house, as there was nothing else to do. The police would more likely arrest him or throw him in the loony bin for claiming a corpse had disappeared so flawlessly, after all, and he could hardly figured out what had happened to her behind bars. But that person she'd mentioned, "Charizard Ventus", that name was that of a Smash Fighter, wasn't it? She must have known him somehow, maybe that explained all that she'd said about them.

Honestly, he didn't know where to begin with this all. Why had she died, what had she been trying to say, how did she know all this? He didn't have a clue, but he had to at least try, even if she'd trusted him on false pretenses.

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_**AN- Starting this one off with a bang, am I right? Well, it's a better start than my last attempt at writing this had. Er, yeah, this is a rewrite of a story I posted a few weeks ago called Kaien Panzermast. Well, at least it has a better title this time. Even if it starts with something so dark… Er, yeah. If you liked it and want to see it expanded into a full story, go vote for this on my profile, because any more than three stories at a time would be stupid. Heck, more than two stories at a time is stupid, but I'm just filled with overconfidence. Well, thanks for reading! –Twilight Joltik**_


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